


The Stoic Conjurer and the Pugilist

by bremma



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Sad Ending, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bremma/pseuds/bremma
Summary: "Y’shtola's tail twitched as she thought of the tall Hyuran woman"
Relationships: Yda Hext/Y'shtola Rhul
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	The Stoic Conjurer and the Pugilist

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for content before Stormblood within! Read with caution if you aren't caught up!

Y’shtola could hardly remember the last time she felt so excited. It had been over a moon since Yda had departed on a personal mission to Ala Mhigo. From what she recalled, Yda had managed to work out a plan to rescue some of her kinsmen and women from the occupied territory. Y’shtola was concerned at first at the plan, Yda stating she planned to go alone, but had confidence that Yda would succeed and come home safely.

Her tail twitched as she thought of the tall Hyuran woman, her mind drifting lightly as she traced a hand ildy over the branching wand at her hip. Y’shtola hardly planned on falling in love, usually more occupied by her studies than other people, but something about Yda caught her eye. And by how Yda acted around her, it was clear the feeling was mutual, though neither was willing to take the first step, at least until the day Y’shtola tripped with an armful of parchments. 

She had expected to fall hard to the ground, but was surprised at the feel of a pair of strong arms catching her and pulling her up. “Woah, easy there!” Yda said, her breath airy from the exertion of leaping over to catch the Miqo’te before she hit the ground. “You alright?”

Y’shtola found herself frozen, looking up into the masked face above her, a flush on her cheeks. Partly it was embarrassment, how had she tripped in this hall where she had walked hundreds of times before? But the other part was being held close by the strong arms of Yda.

She honestly had forgotten what she had said, her mind aflutter at the time with emotion, but it sparked a romance between the two of them. It started slow enough, time spent comparing notes and observations. Yda was not the scholar that Y’shtola was but what she lacked in book knowledge she made up for with her keen insights on the people and situations around herself. She would also watch Yda spar at times, attending under the guise as being there to heal those after their spars. But her attention was often affixed on the Hyur as she fought, watching her lithe and graceful movements, lithe muscles showing under her skin.

These same observations held true once they found themself in each other’s arms in bed. Neither were experienced lovers, but there was plenty of cheerful and playful laughter as they learned about each other, and fell deeper into love. They didn’t openly flaunt their relationship in public, but it was something of an open secret that the stoic conjurer and the pugilist were an item.

The night before her departure, the two of them had shared a bed, as they were more wont to do those days. “I still worry, about your trip.” Y’shtola said softly, head cradled against Yda’s broad and scarred shoulder. 

“Oh Shtola…” Yda leaned in, planting a soft kiss on the tip of an white ear. “I’ll be careful, I swear on the Twelve. But I have to do this. So many of my countrymen are…”

“I know…” She sat up, looking down at the Hyur woman, reaching over to brush a hand over a cheek, her pale eyes meeting Yda’s dark green ones, feeling tears starting to form. “Far be it from me to tell you to not follow your heart. Just please, come back.”

“I will.” Yda reached up, a lightly calloued hand returning the simple gesture across Y’shtola’s cheek, a thumb tracing her clan markings. 

Y’shtola was surprised to realize she had stopped her walk towards Papalymo’s apartments, her hand in the same spot Yda’s had been that night. She suppressed a flush, her ears flicking in embarrassment as she nervously looked around. The street was mercifully empty, her reverie thankfully going unobserved, and continued her stroll. She honestly had expected to hear from Yda herself upon her return, but instead it was Papalymo who had contacted her, Yda having stopped there first. He was her partner in most of their Circle of Knowledge matters, it would make sense she might check in there first. 

Where Yda stopped first didn’t truly matter, she silently decided. Most important was that she was back, and Y’shtola wanted to see her more than anything. Her heart fluttering in her chest, Y’shtola pressed on, her walk soon bringing her to Papalymo’s. She knocked lightly at the door. She heard a bit of commotion behind it, hearing Papalymo call out. “Wait, no, let me-” 

The door swung open, and she felt her tail and ears perk up in excitement, the familiar garb and mask of her love in front of her. “Yda, I-” Y’shtola started to speak, a smile on her face, but she quickly faltered. The smile remained on her face, but hidden behind her back, her tail bristled and her ears pricked up subtly in alarm. 

Whoever this was, it wasn’t Yda. Certainly, they were a good facsimile, dressed the same, down to the tattoo on her neck. But, the woman’s bearing was wrong. That wasn’t how Yda stood. This woman was smaller too, the lithe muscles she was used to seeing replaced by soft arms. The broad shoulders she would cradle into at night were missing. Even her smell was not the same. Not the same at all.

Her eyes darted to Papalymo, seeing his frantic silent gestures from behind the woman, reading their meaning clearly. ‘I know, it’s not her, but play along. I can explain later.’

Her attention went back to not-Yda as the woman spoke. “It’s great to see you again, Y’shtola! I missed you!”

They were the words she had been yearning to hear, but they were spoken not with the passion they should have from their moons of familiarity. This was the greeting of a colleague, not someone you shared a bed with. She felt a sharp twinge in her chest, fighting to keep the smile on her face as she realized what this meant.

She didn’t come back.

She was never coming back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fic brought on by a prompt from [Emet-Selch’s Wholesomely Debauched Bookclub](https://discord.gg/3Vt9ZXpCAP)!
> 
> "stb spoilers actually can you imagine how heart breaking it would be if y'shtola and yda WERE a thing and then yda comes back one day and y'shtola knows its not her and it breaks her heart into pieces"
> 
> This one was short and... well, I was gonna say sweet, but you know. 
> 
> Anyhow, thank you for reading! Leave a kudos or a comment if so inclined! And drop by the Discord and say hello!


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